Jesse’s dumb smile kept shining until he tapped his wrist where a watch might have been. “And done.”

It was about time.

“What are we going to tell your parents?”

Jesse’s face ironed out. “Wow. You really know how to kill a guy’s soak.”

I waited.

“Are you talking about us?”

“No, I’m talking about me and Sunny.” I motioned toward the resting horse beside me while Jesse’s forehead lined. “Yes,” I said with exasperation. “Yes, I’m talking about us.”

He shrugged. “What do you want to tell them?”

“Nothing yet,” I said. “But we’ll have to tell them eventually. We’re sleeping together, after all.”

“That’s true. We are sleeping together,” Jesse said. “I’m not usually that kind of guy.”

“That’s not what your exes say,” I threw back.

His eyes rolled to the sky.

“No, really. In all seriousness, I like you, Jesse.” I narrowed my eyes as I concentrated on finding the right words. Expressing myself, truthfully, had never come easy. “I don’t want to feel like we’re going behind your family’s backs because I like them, too. But this is all so new to me. So totally different that I just want to take it slow until I figure it out.” I almost gave myself a pat on the back for that whole soul-bearing bit.

“Different?” Jesse tilted his head.

Why did he have to ask every darn question I didn’t want to answer?

I sucked in a deep breath. “You know . . . The whole saying nice things to me, buying me gifts, looking after me, asking me on official dates . . . that’s all very new to me.” I knew how pathetic that sounded—an eighteen-year-old girl who’d “dated” dozens of guys wasn’t used to hearing nice things or getting an occasional rose or something—but it was the truth. I wanted to try to be honest with Jesse. It was the only way, if there even was a way, that we would have a fighting chance. “It’s going to take some getting used to.”

“Is it something you want to get used to?” he asked, almost shyly.

“Yeah,” I said, grabbing his hand. “I think it is.”

“You look really nice, by the way,” he said, examining me with a proud smile.

“You think so?” I gave a quick turn. “This guy I know picked my outfit out.”

“He’s got great taste.” Jesse’s eyes wandered to mine again. “Great taste.”

I tapped my heels together Dorothy-style. “The boots are pretty fantastic, too. And I’m a girl who knows boots.”

“Yes, you do,” he said before grabbing Sunny’s reins and leading him toward the stream. I followed and enjoyed the break in the conversation.

“So, there’s this dance . . . thing.” Jesse cleared his throat. So much for a break in the conversation. “It’s next weekend, and I was thinking . . . Well, I wanted to ask you—”

“Jesse Walker,” I said, coming up beside him, “are you asking me to the prom?” I clasped my hands together and batted my lashes.

“From the way my palms are sweating,” Jesse wiped his hands off on his jeans, “you’d think I am.”

“Well, I’d love to go with you, but I’ve already got a date.”

His expression fell. “You do?”

“Yeah. Your ex-girlfriend,” I said, nudging him.

Relief flashed over his face before it was promptly replaced with concern.

“Don’t worry. I promise I’ll save you a dance. Or two.” I wondered if I’d just pulled a line from a classic movie or if people really said that kind of stuff. I didn’t know. I’d never been to a dance. The closest I’d ever made it to one was the parking lot of my high school. After that not-so-pleasurable experience, I wrote off all future dances. I didn’t want to go to all the trouble of getting dressed up when the only dance my date wanted was in the back seat of his car.

“Or three,” Jesse added. “Or all of them.”

“Greedy,” I muttered to Sunny who continued to drink from the stream so deeply you’d think he was trying to drain it.

“Not greedy, just hopelessly optimistic.”

“You know the definition of ‘hopelessly,’ right?” I lifted an eyebrow.

Jesse smiled into the stream and scratched the back of his head. “Well, then how ‘bout this? We have shared a bed now, like you said. I think that kind of exclusivity goes with dance partners as well.”

“Is it a waste of breath if I keep arguing with you?”

“Probably.”

I shouldered him. “We’d better get back,” I said, “before they miss us and the rumors start flying.”

Jesse chuckled. “The rumors were flying the moment you and I were out of earshot.” He grabbed my waist, and before the air had whooshed from my mouth, I was perched back on top of Sunny.

“Okay, Muscles,” I said, grabbing hold of the saddle horn, “next time you decide to toss me on top of a giant beast, could you give me a moment’s warning first?”

Just as quickly, Jesse’s body slid into position behind me. He could literally mount and dismount a horse in the blink of an eye. He really was a cowboy.

“Moment’s warning before putting you on top of a giant beast?” he repeated, bobbing his head beside mine. “Okay. Done.” When his arms came around me to grab hold of the reins, I realized I’d been wrong. Riding behind Jesse wasn’t as good as it got. Riding in front of him was. I was cocooned in his hold. Protected. Safe.

It didn’t hurt that his legs were basically wrapped around me either.

“I’d loved to stay out here all day and talk, or bicker, or . . .” the inflection in his voice filled in the blanks, “but I’ve still got another eight hours of work in front of me today.”

I threw a longing look at the sandy bank beside the stream. The bittersweet taste of what the day could have been . . .

“Yeah. And I’ve got about eight hours of egg collecting, porch sweeping, laundry washing, and meatloaf making in front of me.”

Jesse made some clicking sound with his mouth, squeezed his legs, and we were off. Sunny seemed to only have two speeds: fast and holy-shit-fast. “Mom’s keeping you busy?” Jesse had to holler a bit given the wind cutting over us from Sunny’s take-no-prisoners sprint.

“A squirrel in the fall is busy. I’m something else entirely,” I yelled back.

“Ranch life’s not exactly what you anticipated?” Jesse’s mouth moved just outside my ear. I knew he’d likely done it so we didn’t have to keep screaming back and forth, but like so many random exchanges between Jesse and me that were innocent on the surface, it felt oddly intimate. So intimate, my eyelids dropped and my mouth parted for a brief moment.

Then I realized Jesse was waiting for my response, and when I opened my eyes, he was watching me with a bit of amusement. That I didn’t flush fire-engine red or become a stuttering idiot was a testament to how much practice I’d had overcoming those kinds of awkward situations. The embarrassment on my end part, not the smokin’ hot cowboy staring at me with a melt-your-panties-right-off smile.

“No, it’s not what I expected,” I answered, twisting my head so I could return the mouth-just-outside-the-ear favor. “It’s better.”

I couldn’t see Jesse’s expression from the way my head was turned, but I felt it without having to see it. I felt it in the way his arms tightened around me. I felt it in the way the side of his face pressed into the side of mine. I felt it in the physical, but I felt it in the something else, too. In the something deeper that was just below the surface. It was staggering. It was purposeful.

It was a first.

Yet another of the many I’d experienced with Jesse. And the guy’s hands and mouth hadn’t even wandered into the PG-13 territory yet. That was saying something.

A whole bunch of something.

When Sunny tore up over a gentle hill, the tree, Old Bessie, and the rest of the guys and their horses came into view. I wasn’t exactly thrilled to be back to reality, but my emotions were more focused on those precious few minutes we’d escaped reality. I’d never been the glass-half-full girl, but I seemed in danger of becoming one.